Whatever Lola Wants
by Lamanth
Summary: ONE SHOT – Over and over it plays. Dragging up memories of the past. Each loss more painful than the one before. Sasuke/Ino


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.) Nor do I own the song 'Whatever Lola Wants' by Sarah Vaughan.

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Summery 

ONE SHOT – Over and over it plays. Dragging up memories of the past. Each loss more painful than the one before. (Sasuke/Ino)

Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed, as are random acts of worship.

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Lamb: This is the result of me pouring my venom and rage over stolen fics into the computer just to see what would happen.

**Muse:** One big mess as I could have told you.

Lamb: Oh hush up you.

_Dedi:_ This fic is dedicated to **Drunksonic**, who supported this idea of turning rage into a fic and also to **jin.toshikazu,** as her fic was also stolen. So, **Drunksonic** and **jin.toshikazu,** this is for you.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to throw things at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

M**use: **On with the fic!

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_It brings on many changes,  
And I can take or leave it if I please,  
The game of life is hard to play,  
I'm gonna lose it anyway,  
The losing card I'll someday lay,  
So this is all I have to say,_

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**Whatever Lola Wants**

The heat of the day still hung heavy, even in the deepest hours of the night, and the dark haired male was stretched on the bed with no blankets or shirt. Sweat rolled in rivulets across the planes of his pale skin. His well-defined torso criss-crossed with scars both old and new, a testament to the harsh realities of his chosen profession. Both his arms and legs are corded with muscle and his palms are hard and covered with many calluses. His hair is the deep blue/black of a raven's wing, the same shade as his eyes though the inky orbs often flash crimson.

The only light in the room comes from a single bedside lamp, its red shade turning the light from the one bulb to a murky bloody orange. Dark shadows linger in the corners of the room bathed in a fiery glow, and he thinks that this is what the inside of a furnace must look and feel like. All colours black and red, and the air so hot it seems to vanish before he can even drag it into his starving lungs. Or maybe it was not a furnace; maybe it was what hell was like. The privet hell of Uchiha Sasuke.

From the stereo in the corner the seductive melody drifted mockingly, so many memories were tied up with the song. They left him hot and achy and feeling the need to drive his fist through a wall, but he still could not summon the will to turn it off. 'Whatever Lola Wants' he scoffs in derision, but whether of the song of himself he is unsure.

_Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,  
And little man, little Lola wants you,  
Make up your mind to have,  
No regrets,  
Recline yourself, resign yourself, you're through,_

Whoever this Lola was she would have been nothing when compared to the girl he had seen dancing to this very song. To the girl he had seen and, though he still refused to admit it even to himself, fallen in love with. Seduction missions were a common requirement for all kunoichi, but until that moment he had not been aware of what that simple word meant. _Seduction._ For years she had chased him, but never once had she turned on the charm the way that she had done on that mission, if she had then he would have fallen for her at the very start. The whole restaurant had literally stopped and turned to stare at the kunoichi dancing so seductively with the man she had been hired to kill.

_I always get what I aim for,  
And your heart and soul is what I came for,  
Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,  
Take off your coat, don't you know you can't win,_

Her outfit was almost identical to the one she normally wore, except that the top was a deep crimson and the skirt was shorter and black. And in place of the usual sandals she had thigh high black boot, which only served to emphasise the length of her toned legs. Never before had he been so aware of every subtle movement of her body, every dip and sway. All kunoichi were taught how to dance as part of their basic training, but what she was doing looked more like sex on hardwood. If the man who held her had not been their target, the dark haired male would have tried to kill him at the first opportunity that presented its self for daring to put his hands on the blonde.

_You're no exception to the rule,  
I'm irresistible you fool,  
Give in,  
Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,_

As it was he, the dancing girl and the third member of their team carried out the mission as planed and in less than an hour since he danced with the provocative blonde the target was cold and dead. Swift and silent as shadows they had left the port town and headed home. They moved quickly and quietly though the night and only the most skilled tracking-nin would have detected their passing. Their first stop was the Hokage tower to drop off mission reports and then the three were to head their separate ways.

_I always get what I aim for,  
And your heart and soul is what I came for,  
Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,_

That was what was intended, but the moment the third member departed the dark eyed male seized hold of the blonde and pulled her into the nearest deserted ally. Without thinking he pushed her up against the brick wall and crushed his mouth onto hers, she responded instantly. He took her there among the shadows, the sound of her cries and his, echoing in the warm night air and only serving to heighten their excitement. The cloak of the darkness was the only thing that helped conceal their frantic and reckless actions from the prying eyes that filled the night. And then running through the streets to his home, where behind locked doors they could explore each other without fear of interruption.

Later he would learn that the dance was called the Argentine Tango.

_Take off your coat, don't you know you can't win,  
You're no exception to the rule,  
I'm irresistible you fool,  
Give in, Give in,_

That had been three years ago, and at eighteen they had both been too wrapped up in life and sensation to give a sparing thought to their mortality. But they were ninja and death was part of what they did. In reality it was the reason for all that they did. They lived to kill and to keep others from getting killed. People would talk about baptisms of fire, but all shinobi were baptised in blood.

The blood of friends.

The blood of enemies.

The blood that was their own.

He pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed and swung his legs over the side so that his bare feet were pressed to the wooden floorboards. It was so stupid to act in such a way over something a trivial and inconsequential as a girl. She was nothing but a bitch and a whore, a parasite that had wormed its way into his life. Yet if that was the case why was he sat there waiting for her? Hoping against hope that she would come to him just as she used to do.

Answer, because she was both an angel and a goddess to him. She was everything he had ever wanted and more, even if it had taken him far to long to be able to see it. But once he had… it was almost as if they were trying to make up for all the time that they had lost and every spare moment they had they spent together. Not just as they had in those first few weeks, where they hardly stepped out side of the bedroom, but doing all the things they had missed out on for so long. Talking and laughing together even just walking down through the village holding hands.

A faint noise coming from the open window had him suddenly alert, and he had pushed himself off of the bed and into a half standing position before the painful truth of cold hard fact managed to pierce the bubble of hope that had swelled inside his chest. He sunk back onto the bed, it wasn't her; it was never going to be her again. He knew it and yet he couldn't help the way his heart would leap every time he would catch a glimpse of a blonde head moving through the crowded streets. Or the way that every time there was a knock on his door part of him small part of him would think that just for a moment it would be her. And each time reality struck him it was as if he were loosing her all over again.

There was a soft click from the stereo in the corner as the song ended and then immediately started to play once more. In his heart of hearts he had known that what they had could not last. They had been living in a happy golden time, and though they had both really known that anything that perfect couldn't last for long, they had ignored it and pretended that it could. Perhaps they had been stupid and naïve, but he thought it was more lightly that they just didn't want to face the possibility that one day they would have to face a future where they would no longer be together.

It had all happened so quickly that there had been no time for him to prepare, one moment they had been together and then the next…

If he closed his eyes he could still see her mutilated body lying sprawled upon the ground. What had started out as a simple enough recognisance mission had rapidly escalated into a fight for survival when the group of the five of them had been overwhelmed by the number of enemy shinobi. A number far greater than anyone could have predicted. Somehow they had fought their way through it, somehow they had triumphed, and somehow they had all made it through. All of them except for her.

And when he looked upon her lifeless form amid the whirling boiling mass of horror, pain and revulsion there was a small spark of wonderment. There was so much blood, he never knew she had so much blood. He can't comprehend why when he gazed down at her she no longer had a face, features mangled beyond recognition, eyes swollen shut behind a sticky scarlet mask. The scent of blood filled his nose and though he almost gagged on the scent, he dropped to the ground cradled her closely to him rocking gently back and fourth.

He wrapped his arms around her torso retching slightly as his fingers came into contact with her exposed ribs, so frenzied and vicious were the wounds inflicted on her by the enemy attackers. First one and then a second tear roll down his cheeks and before he knew it he was crying tears he never knew he had the ability to shed. His tears fell splashing onto her crimson stained face, running in trails down over her skin and washing away the evidence of the grizzly nightmare.

He cried for her, for the love that they had and for the soul of the unborn child who died with her.

From the corner of the room comes yet another soft click and the song restarts for what feels like the hundredth time since he first entered the bedroom that is still filled with the memory of her. And as he listens he begins to wonder if there is any difference between the girl in the song and the girl that used to share his bed. Maybe they were one and the same, after all, a sad smile touched his lips, she always did get what she wanted after all.

And what Yamanaka Ino had wanted most was him.

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Lamb: I'm not really sure what I think of this.

**Muse:** I am, and it's….

Lamb: It's 'T' rated so keep your trap shut.

_Dedi:_ I love it when they get along. But **Drunksonic** and **jin.toshikazu,** we hope you liked it.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth


End file.
